


SV: Metropolitan Rhapsody

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-10
Updated: 2006-02-10
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12798954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: none





	1. Chapter 1  Clark

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

  
Author's notes: Exodus and Heat spoilers  


* * *

_Is this the real life?_

_Is this just fantasy?_

_Caught in a landslide,_

_No escape from reality..._

_Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen_

 

***

 

Waking up is unreal. Or, at least, it should be.

 

It’s too real.

 

There’s no hiding behind the camouflage of gingham curtains. No waking up to the smell of pancakes and sizzling bacon. No lazy stumble downstairs to the kitchen. There _is_ no kitchen. Only this, earth and sky battling for attention in his mind thick with exhaustion and denial. The crater is still here, but no sign of the ship. No debris.

 

There should be debris.

 

The symbol is still burned into his chest, infinity in a pentagon like a brand from Krypton. The last remains of a ship that should have left evidence, proof of its existence and destruction, because if it’s dead shouldn’t he be too? Except he’s not dead, just everyone else is, and it’s all his fault. His fault his mother is in the hospital, his father hates him, and Lex is getting married again. Even though Helen left for the second time last week and now she’s back, all of sudden, and did she trick him out of signing a prenuptial agreement too?

 

He knows, logically, that Lex is hiding something from him. The reason Helen left and Lex’s inexplicable confessions of “mistakes” and “turning over a new leaf” for _Helen_? It’s too perfect, even for Lex, and Clark isn’t sure Lex isn’t planning something.

 

But Lex is getting married _right now_. Without Clark. Without… why is Lex _doing_ this? Didn’t he learn his lesson last year with Desiree?

 

And why, of all things, is he worrying about Lex _getting married_ when he should be worried about more important things, like the obliteration of his family’s farm and a ship that may or may not have been his last chance to get to know his real parents? They’re _dead_. Millions of light-years away. Not something that should matter. Except that it does, and nothing he’s thinking makes any sense. He’s been accused of being impulsive, and why not? Maybe sometimes it’s better just to forget about everything and go somewhere to hide and not hurt anyone anymore. Clarity, understanding, _realizing_ the effect he’s had on everyone isn’t the most appealing thought right now.

 

Which is probably why God invented red Kryptonite. Because even aliens need to get away sometimes.

 

-

 

It’s easy enough to ignore Pete’s protests after he tells Clark where Chloe is keeping the ring. Pete didn’t want him to put the key in the ship, and look how that turned out. If they’d gone with Pete’s plan Pete would dead now too, because Clark is the only person who could have survived the apocalyptic explosion. Even _he_ had barely survived it.

 

And if Clark starts referring to them as “those puny humans” he’s going to go insane. It’s bad enough there’s a “they” instead of a “we”.

 

He wishes he had a blue pill instead of a red ring. That way he could conveniently forget about the last two years and go back to thinking he’s normal. A little bit faster, a little bit stronger, but not this. Alien. The embodiment of every X-Files villain and creepy creature from Men In Black and Independence Day. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and really, was Pete not justified in freaking out when Clark told him the truth? It’s always the black guy who dies first in those movies, right?

 

Lex wouldn’t have freaked out. Sometimes Clark even thinks Lex knows. But it doesn’t matter, because Lex is getting married. Again. Without him. And instead of bearing rings for Lex and Helen, Clark has a class ring with red Kryptonite burning a hole in his pocket. Thank you, Class of 2005, for choosing the cheapest ring manufacturers in Kansas. The town of Smallville thanks you.

 

It doesn’t take long for Pete to throw up his arms in defeat. Clark has gone mad, he declares. “You bit my head off when I used it on you last year. Now you know what it does and you’re using it yourself?”

 

“Like you’re one to talk.” They’re just words, anyway. Clark doesn’t have time for words. He just wants to get away from Smallville as fast as possible, and the alien power seeping through his denim only encourages him. It’s like a drug already, and it isn’t even in contact with his skin yet.

__

_Behold_. Lana is teary and confused. “Come with me,” he smirks, and she begs him not to go. They _need_ him here. What on Earth will Smallville do without him?

 

“Don’t you get it?” Apparently she doesn’t. “Everyone I get close to gets hurt.” Which begs the question: Why did he ask her to come? Something to ponder on the road.

 

Lana runs away from the alien. See? They’re scared of him without even knowing what he is.

 

It’s the first time he’s used the red Kryptonite knowing what effect it will have on him. More intense than the last two times, and it could be the rush from the anticipation, red-hot bolts of electricity charging him up, up, and away from little towns that hold him back and demand that he hides. _You wanted me to leave, dad. Looks like you got your wish_. A brief thought for his mother and his… _sibling_ , since they never even got to find out if it was going to be a boy or a girl, when the blast that barely hurt him destroyed everything in a mile-wide radius. Why, _why_ had they come back from the wedding? This wouldn’t have even happened if there hadn’t been a wedding in the first place, so maybe this is all Lex’s fault.

 

Yeah, right. Just like it’s Lex’s fault there was a meteor shower fourteen years ago.


	2. Chapter 2  Lex

_Open your eyes,_

_Look up to the skies and see_

_I’m just a poor boy,_

_I need no sympathy…_

_Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen_

 

 

This is all Helen’s fault.

 

He can barely hear the storm outside over the roar of the engine. Water will be the death of him, whether it’s a river or an ocean or the perfect storm. Only this time it’s in the LuthorCorp jet, and the irony of dying in his father’s wedding gift is too much for him to accept.

 

Except the overhead compartments are empty. God fucking dammit. Helen only needs one parachute. Five even, if you include the pilot and crew, but the fact that all seven are gone confirms his suspicions. Even the spare is gone.

 

It was all an act, then. The passivity, the reluctant trust. She never trusted him to begin with. And to think, she’d been planning this all along.

 

Can he give her the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps this is all a scheme of his father’s, a plan to get rid of the heir once and for all… but that doesn’t make any sense. That would leave Lucas to take everything, and Lionel trusts Lucas even less than he trusts Lex.

 

Not to mention the LuthorCorp logo on the side of the plane. That would make him the first suspect, and if nothing else, Lionel is too smart for that. If he wanted Lex dead, he would plan something subtler. No, this doesn’t have Lionel’s mark on it. It’s probably Helen.

 

After all, Helen was the one who gave him the champagne when they took off. And he’d been stupid enough to drink it.

 

Lex curses to himself as he sets about finding a floatation device and breaking open the emergency windows. It’s not likely that he’ll get reception in the middle of the ocean, but stranger things have happened. May as well keep his options open.

 

He takes a deep breath before leaning out into the whipping hail. He can only hope there’s land nearby. Things have always worked out in his favor before. Well, except for attempted murder by the hands of his second wife. His first, too, come to think of it. Lucas’ mother, Clark’s father, and Clark has always been the one to save him before. This time, Lex is going to have to save himself.

 

He really has to stop getting himself into these situations.


	3. Chapter 3  Clark

_I'm easy come, easy go,_

_Little high, little low,_

_Any way the wind blows,_

_Doesn't really matter to me…_

_Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen_

 

 

Wearing a helmet is more of an annoyance than anything else. Still, probably not as annoying as getting pulled over and asked why he ignores the laws that are in place for his own safety. Ha. If these people only knew that this boy on a motorcycle is more of a threat to their precious cars and SUVs than they are to him, that colliding with him would probably mean an accordionned highway, not much different than Lex’s porsche after he pulled the roof off to save him and –

 

No, he’s not supposed to be thinking about Lex. About best friends who flirt with you and then not only don’t do anything about it, but add insult to injury by making you their best man twice within ten months. Who don’t realize that if they took a second to think about what the phrase best man really means and that if you were really his best man, you’d be the one he’s marrying, not those stupid women. But you can’t marry someone you’ve only hugged, and just after you’ve had to give a toast to their stupid marriage. Plus there’s the whole legality issue, but with the way Lex has been acting lately (namely, straight), that’s the least of his problems. Not that Clark isn’t straight. He’s just bitter about losing his best friend to yet another woman.

 

Everyone goes at least ten miles over the speed limit on the interstate. He can run faster than that, but he needs time to think. He still doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he gets to Metropolis. All he knows is that’s his destination.

 

Lex is probably on his honeymoon right now. Which would make him mad except that Lex is always on a honeymoon. The weird thing is, it has nothing to do with Helen or Victoria or any of those women. He has this way of getting smug and satisfied when he plays power games with his father, which Clark has never understood but it seems to make Lex… happy. In a weird twisted kind of way that Clark’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to understand. Lex gets so wrapped up in these games that it seems like he doesn’t notice Clark anymore. Now that he’s married, Lex will probably forget about him altogether.

 

Well, that’s just fine with him.

 

-

 

He gets bored with the interstate so he slows down to look for the next exit. Maybe he can get something to eat or… something. Anything’s better than this endless ride down the road and his ass getting sore, which isn’t supposed to happen. Of course, he is wearing the red Kryptonite, and maybe it makes him weak. Or maybe it’s just psychological. Lex would probably say –

 

Stop thinking about Lex!

 

He’s a little too enthusiastic on the clutch and it breaks off under his foot. Shit.

 

He ditches the bike on a cement shoulder somewhere an hour out of Smallville and walks around for a while. It’s more like a city as he walks down the sidewalks, taller buildings and smaller shops. Narrower, busier streets, people rushing around and not looking at each other as they pass each other on the asphalt. It’s nothing like Smallville. It’s not quite like Metropolis either, it’s… darker.

 

Clark wanders aimlessly down sidestreets, taking in the flurry of activity and souond. He’s never been anywhere like here and it’s interesting, it’s thrumming like the blood in his veins. He feels restless, wants to run yell jump. Anything to expell this energy taunting the corners of his mind.

 

He stands still, letting the tension build, letting people push past him and give him strange looks. Someone looks straight at him, stares and Clark stares right back. The guy looks vaguely familiar and he starts to approach Clark, not losing eye contact even as pedestrians come between them. Then he’s right in front of Clark, quirking an eyebrow and swearing when a police siren gets louder behind them.

 

“Kiss me,” he demands, looking slightly panicked. Well, it’s not like Clark has anything better to do. What the hell?


	4. Chapter 4  Lionel

_Just killed a man –_

_Put a gun against his head,_

_Pulled my trigger,_

_Now he's dead…_

 

 

CNN is announcing an unidentified plane crash in the Pacific. Plane crashes happen all the time, and Lex’s plane was going over the Atlantic. Nevertheless, it makes Lionel decidedly uneasy.

 

He barely feels his legs as he sinks onto the leather sofa. It wasn’t supposed to go this far. It was just a threat. The phrase is a broken record in his mind, preferable to acknowledging the consequences.

 

Where the fuck is Dominic? Lionel called him the moment he became aware of the plane crash. The man is absolutely inept.

 

It’s the middle of the night and it’s only been approximately a half hour, but Lionel thinks they should know more about the location than that it’s off the coast of Southern California. He half expects Dominic to burst into laughter when he shares his concerns about his son. Not only because Dominic is convinced that he doesn’t love Lex (which is an utter misconception), but because the crash is on the wrong side of the continent. Despite his doubts, Lionel can’t ignore the gnawing uneasiness that has settled around him.

 

He never should have trusted Helen with Lex’s safety.

 

-

 

“Sorry I’m late, boss.”

 

Lionel closes his eyes and prays for strength. Dominic is drunk. Lionel can smell him from across the room.

 

“Good God, man!” he exclaims when he finally turns around. Dominic is lounging in the doorway with an open beer bottle in one hand, the other hand out of sight somewhere on the other side of the doorway. He’s grinning stupidly and there’s lipstick on his collar. Why does Dominic insist upon gallavanting around while other people have businesses and families to take care of? “Late? I called you nearly two hours ago!”

 

Dominic shrugs lazily and twists his head into the hallway, trapping the bottle between his hand and the doorframe. Total disrespect for –

 

Tell me he doesn’t have a woman with him. Lionel is having a hard time convincing himself that the giggle he hears belongs to Dominic, even if the man is drunk as a dog.

 

Lionel sees a paycut in Dominic’s future. Possibly even a suspension.

 

Dominic trips into Lionel’s home office, giving him a clear view of where Dominic’s other hand is. Precisely speaking, his hand is exploring a blonde’s scrap of a tanktop, pulling her into the room by what could conceivably be a brastrap.

 

Forget suspension. Lionel is going castrate him.

 

“Dominic!” He schools his voice to be as commanding as possible, and it almost gets through. Dominic straightens up a little and smirks, bestowing the lady with a poorly coordinated kiss before shooing her out of the room and flopping onto the sofa, making the leather pop and squeak under his sprawling body. It’s not until he starts buttoning up his shirt that Lionel realizes it was unbuttoned in the first place. “Where have you been?” he demands. Dominic shrugs.

 

“Out.” Spoken like an ornery teenager. Lionel is ready to wring his neck. “What’s the big deal?”

 

He hates to concede a point to Lex, but perhaps Dominic is not the most worthy man for the job. Regardless, he has worked more closely with Dominic than with any other member of his staff, and right now Dominic is the only one he can trust. He knows Lionel’s contacts and goals better than anyone else, and at the moment that’s all Lionel needs – someone who is qualified to help find his son.

 

“There has been a plane crash off the coast of California. I need you to obtain as much information as possible.” New details about the crash have been infuriatingly minimal over the last hour. A fresh mind might accelerate the process, and although Dominic is inebriated, Lionel knows he can contribute significantly to the task. It’s been done before. “I fear something may have happened to Lex.”

 

The snort emitted by Dominic expresses nothing less than derision. “Your boy in trouble?” he drawls. “What a pity.” He doesn’t attempt to move except to raise the bottle to his lips, scowling when he realizes it’s empty. “What do you want me to do?” He ignores Lionel’s Look, glaring at the bottle before tossing it across the room. It smashes to pieces against the opposite wall.

 

Lionel stands agape. Dominic has never acted like this before. It’s no secret that he and Lex don’t appreciate each other’s company, but that’s no excuse for this behavior. After a moment of contemplation, Lionel phones the maid to clean up the mess. He can’t believe he’s going to waste time for this. “I want you to clean yourself up and drink some coffee. Then I’ll explain the entire situation to you.” If Lex is already dead, nothing can be done. If he’s alive, the Coast Guard will find him before Lionel can. It makes no sense to attempt a rational conversation with a drunk.

 

Lionel consoles himself with the thought that in a few hours, Dominic will have an abominable hangover.

 

-

 

With his only link to Lex in the shower trying to sober up, Lionel is left with his thoughts and his information. The reporters closest to the suspected crash site shout into their microphones, raincoats flapping in the violent wind. Their muffled voices are no comfort to Lionel, the announcements that cities in Orange, Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco counties are experiencing blackouts providing no peace of mind. Information has become increasingly sparse and Lionel is starting to feel desperate.

 

He tears through his papers, searching for the letters. He finds them under a pile of stock reports, hidden just out of sight where he would glance at them between negotiations. They arrived within the last two weeks and while Lionel has a policy to never respond to threats, he’s starting to wish he’d made an exception in this case. Lex’s life could be on the line, and he’s to blame for his pompous insistence upon protocol.

 

Lionel’s thoughts are interrupted by another piece of paper. This time it’s a newspaper; a high school newspaper at that. Nonetheless, the byline catches his eye, and he remembers a spunky, enthusiastic young reporter whose father is employed by LexCorp. Lionel smiles to himself and picks up the phone.

 

He dials Chloe Sullivan’s cell from memory.


End file.
